


The Two of Us

by gregoryadams



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-01
Updated: 2018-01-07
Packaged: 2019-02-26 09:51:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,264
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13233237
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gregoryadams/pseuds/gregoryadams
Summary: Lovino is an aspiring writer who wants to broaden his horizons. Antonio is the flirtatious foreigner who helps him do just that.





	1. Chapter One

Lovino let another stay note ring from his guitar. A small smile crept onto his face. These lazy afternoons were always his favorite; they rarely ever occurred, but when Grandpa didn't need any help in the shop, when no errands needed to be ran, and when Feliciano was off doing whatever was making him happy, Lovino felt like he could finally loose a breath. It was a time to relax and recharge. He savored every second.

  
Warm sunshine flooded in from a window, and showered the room with light. Lovino almost didn't notice his drooping eyelids. Everything was peaceful for just a moment longer.  
Lovino groaned when he heard Feliciano's excited footsteps bounding up the stairs. His younger brother burst in their room, two small jars of paint balanced in one hand, and several brushes in the other.

  
"Lovino, you will never guess what I found at the market today!" Feliciano beamed. He said this every time he arrived back from the marketplace after being given a little spending money.

  
Lovino plucked at the string of his guitar, appearing uninterested, "Oh? Could it be more paints? Or new brushes?"

  
"Lovino how did you know? You are so smart! But see what a pretty color this is- and oh! I almost forgot!" Feliciano quickly set his new paints and brushed down on his desk, then fumbled through his bag for something. Lovino raised a brow, "I went to Kiku's for lunch today, and he let me keep these chopsticks so I could practice at home!"

  
"Practice?" Lovino said in a matter-of-fact tone, "Feli, chopstick are pretty simple- they don't require much practice."

  
"Oh really? Can you show me- because I really am having a lot of difficulty and I can't seem to figure out-"

  
"It's easy," Lovino interrupted. He slid off his bed and snatched the chopsticks out of Feliciano's hand. "You see, you just hold them like- like-" Lovino fumbled with the chopsticks for a moment, furrowing his brow.

  
"Lovi, it's okay if you can't-"

  
"No," Lovino bit his lip, "Here we go!" He held the chopsticks loosely, but when he tried to pluck an eraser from Feliciano's desk, his grip failed, and one chopstick flew across the room. Lovino cursed.

  
"I'll have Kiku show me again," Feliciano said quickly, "Besides, chopsticks are really only used for Asian food and we don't eat much Asian food here so it would probably just be a waste if time to learn how to use them."

  
Lovino didn't catch a word of that, but he huffed anyway, "Yeah, speaking of food, do you know when Grandpa is going to be home? I need to know when I should start making dinner."

  
"You're making dinner tonight!" Feliciano grinned, "I love it when you make dinner. Oh, Lovi, you are such a good cook! I don't get why you don't cook every night! What makes tonight so special? Is Antonio coming over?"

  
"No, I lost a bet," Lovino said plainly, with bite, "And you shouldn't mention it to anyone."

  
"A bet? What kind of bet? I made this bet with Ludwig once and he won but he said I didn't have to drink a whole bottle of olive oil, because you see, whoever lost the bet had to drink a whole bottle of olive oil, and I wasn't really planning on losing, but Ludwig is so much better than me at cards!" Feliciano managed to say this all in one breath. Sometimes Lovino wondered how his brother managed to breathe at all.

  
"No, it wasn't a card game. It was on soccer, but that's beside the point-"

  
"What is the point, Lovino?"

  
Lovino sighed, "I don't know," He placed his guitar back in its case, and slid it under the bed. "What time did you say Grandpa was getting home?"

"Oh! I don't know!"

  
"Right," Lovino exhaled and got to his feet. Feliciano offered an innocent smile. "I can go ask him."

  
"Can I come with you?" Feliciano asked.

  
"Fine," Lovino slipped on his shoes, "But no side adventures."

  
Feliciano practically squealed with excitement. It wasn't like they didn't walk two blocks to Grandpa's "Book and Stationary" shop every morning.

  
When they entered, Grandpa was just finishing up with a customer. "Ah, my boys!" He greeted them, "What brings you here on such a pleasant afternoon? Shouldn't you be out flirting or swimming or spending time with your friends?"

  
Lovino got straight to the point, "I'm making dinner tonight."

  
"Wonderful," Grandpa smiled, "I hope it's ready by seven, I invited Antonio to swing by then, and promised food."

  
Lovino crossed his arms, "Antonio? I thought I just had to make a family meal?"

  
"And isn't Antonio part of our family? Surely it won't be difficult to make enough for one more. We almost always have leftovers, anyway. All you have to do set another place at the table."

  
Antonio was hardly family. In reality, Lovino had only met him a few times in passing. And every time he met Antonio he always felt strange, as if something about Antonio was different. He often chose to ignore those feelings, but sometimes, when Antonio would smile, his heart would skip a beat.

  
"This wasn't part of our bet," Lovino said bitterly.

  
"Than maybe you should think next time before you gamble," Grandpa smirked. He began to dust a bookshelf, when the doorbell chimed.

  
"Ludwig!" Feliciano announced, running to hug him. Ludwig turned red at the embrace.

  
"Uh-Feli-"

  
"Perfect!" Grandpa suddenly exclaimed, putting his hands together with a clap, "The more the merrier! Ludwig, why don't you come over for dinner tonight? And you can bring your brother and Aldrich- I haven't seen them in a while. It would be nice to catch up!"

  
"Son of a-"

  
"Language," Grandpa scolded, amused. Lovino growled. "And shouldn't you be heading home anyway? You have to start to prepare dinner if it's going to be ready by seven!"

  
Lovino left, letting the curses under his breath be left to the imagination.

  
He walked home alone; Feliciano was too occupied with Ludwig to willingly leave anytime soon. Lovino didn't really know what kind of relationship they had, and honestly, he didn't care. But sometimes he would catch glances of- of something and wonder if they were more than friends.

At least Lovino wouldn't have to worry about his brother bothering him while he cooked.Lovino decided to make pasta, since it was easy, and Feliciano's favorite. He also threw together a salad and seasoned some garlic bread. He pulled out a few bottles of wine and set them on the table.

  
By the time the table was set, the food was prepared, and Grandpa and Feliciano had returned home, it was time for the guests to arrive.

Antonio filtered in first, then the Beilschmidt family. They all exchanged their "Hello's" and "What have you been up to's." When everyone was settled, and finished with small talk, Lovino served the meal.

  
It got a good response with the guests, though Grandpa did complain that the spaghetti was a little aldente for his taste.

  
"Stop bullying the poor boy," Antonio chirped, "He has made us an excellent meal!"

  
Lovino could feel his cheeks flush from embarrassment. He didn't need Antonio defending him from Grandpa's jokes. He just wanted this dinner party to be over.

  
"Ah, you're right. I'm sorry, Lovino. Here, have some more wine," Grandpa refilled Lovino's glass, who muttered thanks. Grandpa then continued with a new subject, "So Gilbert, how is your gallery doing? Last I heard you had just sold a piece to a collector for a hefty price."

  
"The gallery has been getting quite a bit of attention lately," Gilbert bragged, "It seems like every week, new and old clients empty the walls of art, and I have to line up more deals and trades."

  
"I was just there a couple days ago," Aldrich mentioned, "And I must say, I was impressed with the little business you have got. When you first started it, I was convinced you would go bankrupt in a week."

  
Gilbert's smile widened, and he took another bite of his garlic bread.

  
"So what about you, Lovino," Aldrich asked. Lovino had been too occupied by his own thoughts to comprehend this at first.

  
"Hm?" He said, looking up, mouth full of pasta.

  
"You are going to graduate from university soon, are you not?"

  
"Oh, yeah," Lovino mumbled. He used a napkin to wipe his mouth. "I graduate in the fall."

  
"And what are your plans after that?" Aldrich seemed genuinely curious. Now everyone at the table was focused on Lovino, and he was starting to feel nervous.

  
"I don't really know," He said slowly. "I think- I think I'm going to try and get a job as an editor. Maybe in a year I'll be able to actually publish something,"

  
Lovino had been writing for years. It was something he was passionate about, something he loved. He felt he had so much to say, and, through writing, he could communicate it. Lovino wanted to become a professional one day, but would settle for writing articles and essays if it meant getting some momentum in his career.

  
"Lovino's a really good writer!" Feliciano suddenly mentioned, "I read one of his short stories and it was really good! It was about this girl who went on a boat and fell in love with this sailor. I don't know how it ended because I couldn't finish it because Lovino likes to use really big words, but maybe he could tell me the ending?"

  
Lovino almost spat out his wine. Sometimes, he was grateful that his brother was dyslexic. He hadn't realized that Feliciano was reading that story when he caught him fumbling through his notebooks. It was a story he wrote for his own pleasure, and it was certainly not intended for anyone else's eyes. And since he was too embarrassed to tell the real ending, he choked, "I haven't finished that one yet."

  
Antonio sent him a knowing look. Lovino pretended not to notice.

  
Various conversations continued until the end of dinner. Lovino offered to do the dishes. The rest went off to the family room to sip more wine and engage in even deeper talks. Lovino didn't mind doing the dishes. It gave him time to clear his head. He was feeling tired anyway, if not a bit sick, and it distracted him.

  
He didn't notice Antonio leaning against the doorway until he spoke, "Thank you for dinner. It was delicious."

  
Lovino jumped, dropping a spoon. "Don't scare me like that, idiot!"

  
Antonio laughed. It was full and deep and honest, and it made Lovino feel ... strange, "I'm sorry."

  
Lovino sighed, "You're forgiven. And thanks. I guess."

  
"Do you need help?" He offered, stepping up beside Lovino.

  
"I'm almost done," Lovino said, but Antonio didn't move. "What do you want? You didn't come back here to make small talk or help with the dishes."

  
"No, I didn't," Antonio ran a hand through his hair. He almost looked nervous. "I actually came to ask you about something important."

  
"Oh," Lovino said, trying his best to appear uninterested.

  
"Yeah, I- uh- I'm moving and I need a flatmate, and I know you're graduating soon. You probably don't want to live at Roma's forever. So- uh- I was wondering if you wanted to be my flatmate." Lovino had never seen Antonio so flustered.

  
"Sure," Lovino finally said casually. "Where's the apartment?"

  
"Oh, about that," Was Antonio sweating? "It's, uh, in Madrid."

  
"Madrid?" Lovino huffed. "Why are you moving to Madrid? And even more importantly, why do you think I would ever move to Madrid?"

  
"Nevermind," Antonio sighed, "I knew it would be stupid to ask," He turned to leave, but Lovino caught his sleeve.

"Wait," he said more gently, "How much is the rent?"

  
"A thousand a month, plus utilities," Antonio then added, "It's right in downtown, near shops and nightlife. It's a bargain, really."

  
Lovino bit his lip, "I'll think about it."

  
Antonio smiled.


	2. Chapter Two

Lovino couldn't believe that he was actually doing this. He held the manuscript to his chest, took a deep breath, and entered the building. He was greeted by a bubbly secretary, who directed him to a waiting room. His leg bounced as he waited, and he received many judgmental looks from the others in the waiting room. Lovino didn't care. All he cared about was getting his work into the hands of an author who might give him a letter of recommendation so he would have a chance at getting a decent job.

"Mr. Vargas?" An assistant announced. Lovino stood, and straightened his sport coat. "Mr. Karpusi will see you now."

Lovino followed the assistant to a small office on the second level. He muttered a thank you before entering. He jumped when the door shut behind him.

"Sit," Karpusi said, "Do not be nervous, I can practically hear your heart beating."

Lovino gulped. Was it that obvious? "It's very nice to meet you, sir, I'm-"

"I know who you are, and why you are here," Karpusi pulled a pen out from nowhere, and adjusted his reading glasses. "So?"

"Oh, yes," Lovino set his manuscript on the table. Karpusi started flipping through the pages.

"Looks good," He nodded.

"You haven't even read it," Lovino observed, slightly annoyed.

"True, but I can see that you have put a lot of hard work into this," Karpusi drawled on. "Come back tomorrow."

So Lovino nodded and left swiftly. He couldn't focus on anything for the rest of the day. When Feliciano asked what was wrong, Lovino simply dismissed him. He could barely sleep. "Come back tomorrow," he thought, "What could that mean?"

Lovino was even more nervous now. He would finally get some feedback on his work. He waited impatiently in the waiting room until the same assistant escorted him to Mr. Karpusi's office.

"I'm impressed," The writer said, "Many like you come in here and offer me a story. They're all the same. But this- this is different. Tell me about your process."

"My process?" Lovino asked. He usually just wrote, simple as that. Occasionally, he would make small edits, but he never really stuck with a story long enough to make it a masterpiece.

"Do you make an outline, or do you have some system for organizing your ideas?"

"No," Lovino said simply.

"Interesting," Karpusi noted. He jotted something down on a pad of paper, then handed Lovino his manuscript back, riddled with red pen marks. "I really liked your story."

"Thank you," Lovino said quietly, trying to decipher the messy pen marks Karpusi made.

"Bring me another," Karpusi demanded. Lovino was shocked. The story he gave him was the best he had.

"O-okay," Lovino stood, still dazed (and frankly a bit amazed) at the request. He left, still not quite sure what to feel.

...

Lovino spent all night writing, but nothing seemed to work. He tried a love story, then an adventure tale, then a spin on a fairy tale he once heard. He hated them all. He groaned in frustration.

"Lovino," Feliciano said groggily from his bed, "Are you still writing? It's almost two in the morning."

"Sorry, am I keeping you up?"

"No, I just woke up from the strangest dream," Feliciano yawned, "Ludwig was there, and we were having a picnic on a hill. But the hill wasn't solid; it felt like we were sitting on Jell-O. And we started to sink, only we couldn't climb out of it and- and-" Feliciano's voice cracked, "Now that I think about it, that was a terrible dream!"

"Yeah," Lovino huffed. "Sounds pretty bad."

"Maybe you could write about a dream, Lovino," Feliciano said. Lovino blinked. That actually wasn't a terrible idea.

"Yeah, I think I might do just that. Thanks, Feliciano," Lovino immediately pulled out a new sheet of paper and began to write. The words started off slow, then everything came pouring out. Lovino wrote about his dreams, his hopes, his fears. He wrote down everything. The sentences kept on coming in a steady rhythm.

By the time Lovino passed out on his desk, he had a decent story down. Sure, it was odd, and a little discombobulating, but it was down.

Lovino woke the next morning to a loud scream. He quickly jumped up from his desk, and looked out the window. Antonio was rapidly apologizing to some guy who had spilled his scalding-hot coffee over both Antonio and himself.

Lovino opened the window, and yelled down, "Hey, some of us are trying to sleep here!"

"Sorry, Lovino," Antonio replied, waving, "It's eleven o'clock, I thought you would be up by now."

"Yeah, yeah," Lovino rolled his eyes. The man who had crashed into Antonio was now walking off, cursing. "What are you doing here, anyway? Grandpa is at his shop."

"I know," Antonio absently rubbed the nape of his neck, "I actually came to see you. Do you want to have lunch- er- breakfast?"

Lovino laughed, "What is this, Romeo and Juliet? Why can't you text me like a normal person?"

"Lovino, Lovino, wherefore art thou, Lovino?" Antonio recited, feeling quite happy with himself. "Come on, get dressed. Or wear your pajamas, I don't care."

"You don't?" Lovino raised his brows, speculating. "Then I think I take up your offer."

Lovino shut the window and slipped into his brother's moccasins. He practically bolted down the steps, checking himself in the mirror on the way. He looked terribly exhausted, like he hadn't slept at all. Lovino shrugged and walked out the door.

Antonio giggled, "I was being sarcastic, but your pajamas are really cute!"

Lovino could feel his cheeks heating up, "S-shut up," he stammered, looking down at his Grandpa's old shirt that was too big on him, and his own well worn sweatpants. "Where are you taking me for lunch?"

"How about that little café on Main?" Antonio strode confidently next to Lovino. His hand "accidentally" brushed his companion's, and Lovino stuffed his hands into his pocket.

"That sounds good," Lovino glanced over at Antonio, only to glare, "What are you smiling about anyway?"

"I'm just glad to spend some time with you," Antonio chirped, "My offer still stands, you know."

"Oh, so that's what this is about," Lovino frowned, "Just so you know, I'm still thinking about it. I haven't decided on anything yet. I'm just coming with you today for the free meal."

"Of course," Antonio said, still smiling. "So how's school?"

"Fine," He muttered, "How's work?"

"Fine," Antonio smirked. "I'm glad to be going home, but sad to be leaving. It's bittersweet."

"It's always bittersweet with you," Lovino clapped his hand over his mouth. Did he just say that out loud?

Antonio laughed, "I know. Hot and cold; yes and no; in and-"

"You aren't seriously quoting Katy Perry, are you?" Lovino shook his head. Antonio erupted into another fit of laughter. That was something he did a lot- laugh. Lovino did not understand it.  
"Well, it looks like we're here!"'Antonio announced. Lovino blinked. That was quick. The two were quickly seated, and their orders taken (Lovino ordered the most expensive thing on the menu out of spite).

"So, what have you been up too lately? Surely you can't spend all day in Roma's shop?" Antonio took a sip of his soy latte accusingly.

"What do you mean?" Lovino inquired.

"You aren't writing anything perchance?"

"Why do you ask?" Lovino scowled.

"Well Feliciano was telling me more about your stories when you were washing the dishes and-"

"No," Lovino said simply.

"What? You don't even know what I was going to ask." Antonio leaned back in his chair.

"You were going to ask to read something of mine." Lovino scoffed.

"So may I?"

"No!" Lovino exclaimed again. "The only reason Feli has read them is because he's always snooping through my desk, and I do not need you snooping around my desk."

Antonio grinned, "Scared of what I might find?"

"Yes- no! You know what I mean! It's private! Hey, stop laughing!"

"I'm sorry, Lovino, but seeing you so exasperated-"

"Why must you mock me?"

"Mock you?" Antonio suddenly calmed down, "Lovino, I think it's adorable."

Lovino glared at him, "You're so weird."

"I know. I can't help myself," Antonio sat dreamily. He gazed out the window. Lovino tried not to stare- to look anywhere but at Antonio- but that was proving to be quite difficult. "You know, Lovino. I think if I never saw you again I would be quite miserable."

Lovino snorted, "You know you can text me at any time, idiot."

"It's not the same," He sighed. "I- just you being here- it makes me happy."

"Where's all this coming from? I've known you for three years, yet we barely talk, much less go out for- what is this- lunch?"

Antonio gulped, "Yeah, that may have been my fault. To be honest, I've always been a little intimidated by you."

Lovino bit his lip, "Yeah, I figured," He said bitterly.

"No- that came out wrong. I'm sorry," Antonio quickly corrected himself, "I'm not intimidated by you because I think you're a bad person or anything, I just, I don't know. Something about you is different- in a good way! In a wonderful way! Lovino, I-I don't know what I'm saying, I'm sorry! I just- I really like you, Lovino. I do. And I was worried that you wouldn't like me back, or that you would think I was annoying or something."

Lovino tried to surpress a smile. He wasn't quite sure what to say, so he simply mumbled, "Idiot."

Antonio was bright red. He fanned himself. "I wish I had spoken to you sooner. Is it hot in here or is it just me?"

"It's just you," Lovino furrowed his brow, "What are you doing?"

"Taking a picture," Lovino tilted his head quizzically, "You're smiling," Antonio explained, giggling.

Lovino scowled, "Creep!"

Thankfully, a waitress served their food before an awkward silence could ensue. They continued to make not-so-slightly-flirtatious small talk for the next couple minutes while they enjoyed their meal. Lovino ended up ordering a tiramisu for dessert, just to vex Antonio.

"You know," Antonio told, "Tiramisu was made to be served in the waiting rooms of brothels. It still is served today in some."

"How would you even know that?" Lovino asked, disgusted.

Antonio smirked, "You never know where your travels might take you. But in the end, there is nothing like home. Have you ever been to Madrid in the summer? It's terribly hot, yes, but it is gorgeous. You would love it, Lovino."

"I don't speak Spanish," Lovino said simply, "I wouldn't last a day."

"You could learn. And while you're learning, I could translate for you." Antonio stole a bite of Lovino's tiramisu.

"Hey- oh never mind. You're paying anyway."

"My point is, Lovino, why don't you take a chance, go on an adventure, experience a different culture? You're only young as long as you believe it, and so you might as well live like you've got nothing to lose. Come with me to Madrid. Let me show you the wonders this world has to offer."

Lovino did not know how to reply to such a blunt request. He finished his tiramisu in silence, then stood to leave.

"Please," Antonio pleaded, "Don't keep me in suspense."

Lovino said before he left, "I'll give you my answer tonight."

Now Lovino was on his way home when he remembered the short story he slaved over the night before. He rushed to his room, then back to Mr. Karpusi's office.

"That was quick," said Karpusi when he saw Lovino, "I wasn't expecting you for another day or so."

Lovino hadn't realized that there wasn't a time limit. College had trained him well.

"Yes, well, I spent all night writing this." Lovino huffed.

"Then it better be good," Karpusi let out a small chuckle, "You still seem to be in your pajamas."

Lovino looked down. Of course he had forgotten to change out of his pajamas.

"I'll read this later, but for now I have a proposition for you,"

"Oh?"

"How would you like to pack up your bags and move, let's say, next week?"

"Next week?" Lovino sighed in disbelief, "Why?"

"Have you ever left this town?"

"Yes," Lovino said. It wasn't a lie.

"Have you ever left Italy?"

"No," Lovino said quietly.

Karpusi smirked. "You need to broaden your perspective in order to write something even remotely interesting. All of this- this reeks of familiarity, of home. If all you ever write is what you know, then you better know some amazing things. And (to be honest) there are not many amazing things here."

"But what about school?" Lovino had invested quite a bit of money to attend. And if he dropped out now without his degree... All that money would go to waste.

"Drop out. I never even finished high school, let alone college. But that wasn't because I was pursuing my dream to become a writer, it was because I was expelled. But that's a whole 'nother issue." Karpusi raised his brows in question.

"Why does everyone want me to leave all of the sudden?" Lovino said, exasperated.

"You have no future here," Karpusi started. "And apparently, I'm not the only one who has realized it."

"Thanks." Lovino said bitterly as he stood to leave. He was done.

"But you might be able to find a future somewhere else."

Lovino froze. He wanted to say something back but no words came.

So he left.


End file.
